Page 6 of Demetri
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Ascendingthe steps to Misha Petrov's townhouse, I survey the nearly empty Chicago streets. At seven o'clock in the morning on a Saturday the city is quiet; almost somber. As if the energy here knows I come bearing bad news, but when Misha's front door opens, and she appears in front of me with a red face and tears in her eyes, I know she has already heard of what had happened to her father.
"Demetri," she greets with a sad tone. "I've been expecting you. Thank you for coming."
Pulling Misha close to me, I kiss the top of her head. "I'm sorry about your father."
"Thank you. Won't you please come in. Do you have time for coffee?"
"Of course," I accept stepping inside, and Misha shuts the door behind me. I follow her into the living room, and her husband Brooks greets me. Brooks and Misha met six years ago when she moved from Russia to Chicago. Yerik had been worried about sending his baby girl out into the world alone and hired Brooks to look after his only daughter. Brooks owns a security company here in the city. They have been married for almost four years and have two children. Alena is two, and Luka is three months.
"Mr. Volkov," Brooks addresses offering his hand, and I accept.
"Good to see you, Brooks. I hope you are well."
A few minutes later, Misha returns with a tray of coffee and pastries. "How are the little ones?" I ask as she takes a seat next to her husband after handing me a cup. Even though the devastation of losing her father is written on her face, the mention of her children makes her smile. I'm thankful Misha has her husband and children to cling to during this time. She will need them.
"The children are wonderful."
The three of us sit a moment silently before I speak again. "Do you have any questions for me?"
Shaking her head, Misha places her coffee cup on the table in front of her. "No. I already know what happened to my father and who is responsible. I haven't been home to Russia since leaving and don't know how business has been as of late, but I do know Vadim, and I believe my brother is behind this."
I cut my eyes to Brooks, then back to Misha. "May I speak freely?"
"Of course. I keep nothing from my husband. He knows of my family and my past."
"Very well. I don't have proof, but I suspect Vadim is responsible for your father's death as well. Vadim has been persistent in taking over Yerik's role since he became sick. Your father knew the direction his son wanted to take the family business and was reluctant to hand over power. In the end, Vadim took it."
"Have you seen my brother?"
"Yes. I spoke with him face to face. If he is a smart man, he will heed my warning."
"He won't," Misha says vehemently.
"I know," I tell her. "Vadim will be dealt with in due time."
Nodding her head, Misha drops the subject. She is trusting me to avenge her father's death and handle the situation with her brother.
"Has Vadim tried reaching out to you recently? Do you feel he will be an issue for you? If so, I can have one of my men watch over your family."
"Thank you, Mr. Volkov, but that won't be necessary," Brooks cuts in. "I've already taken the proper measures to see to my family's safety."
Standing, I offer my hand to Brooks. "You'll call me if you need anything?"
"Thanks, Mr. Volkov," Brooks nods.
Turning my attention to Misha, I kiss both her cheeks. "I'll see myself out. Don't hesitate to reach out for anything."
Reaching into my suit jacket, I pull out the envelope Mrs. Petrov gave me. "Your mother wishes you to have this." Taking the letter from my grasp, Misha takes notice of the handwriting on the front of the envelope and clutches it to her chest.
"Thanks for coming all the way to Chicago, Demetri. I know how much my father respected you. It would have meant a lot to him you coming here to check on me."
Making my way outside, Victor opens the door to my car, and I slide into the back. Once he has taken his position in the driver's seat, he peers at me through the rearview mirror. "Where to sir?"
Without missing a beat, I give him the orders for my next destination. "Take me to her." Nodding, Victor pulls out into traffic. He doesn't have to ask whosheis. He already knows. It's been a few months since I've seen Glory. I have decided we've been dancing around each other far too long. It's time to claim what's mine. What's been mine for two goddamn years.She's going to be pissed when I show up unannounced.I grin at the thought.
Parking along the curb in front of Glory's apartment, Victor climbs out and steps around to the passenger side. Just as he's opening my door, I spot her rounding the corner of the building at the end of the street carrying two grocery bags. I'm not at all surprised to see her up and out this early in the morning. If I know Glory, she's been up for hours. I also know she jogs every morning before the sun rises. Seemingly unaware of her surroundings as she stares at the pavement in front of her while she walks, it takes Glory several beats before she notices my presence. When she does, her steps falter.
